


Wearing His Heart on His Sleeve

by tinzelda



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Belated Valentine's Day, Conversation Hearts, M/M, Steve does not know how to be subtle, Valentine's Day, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinzelda/pseuds/tinzelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's ma sends him some of those little candy hearts with the sayings printed on them. Of course, overseas mail means they don't get to him in time for Valentine's Day, but he puts them to good use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wearing His Heart on His Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poppyfields13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyfields13/gifts).



> A piece of unapologetic, sugary-sweet fluff for [poppyfields13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyfields13/profile). I read an article explaining how those little Valentine’s Day conversation hearts have been around since the 19th century, so of course that means Steve and Bucky would be familiar with them. This is what popped out of my brain, in all its unbeta’d glory.

“Says here Phillips wants to see you.” Bucky’d followed Steve down the hall and right into his room. He’d found the message left on the desk before Steve had even taken his boots off.

“We only just got back.” Steve collapsed backward on his cot. “Let me at least clean up before we start all over again.”

“Not now. First thing in the morning. And this is debriefing—finishing up, not starting over yet. We won’t start planning until the afternoon.”

Steve groaned. He was tired, but he overplayed it because he wanted Bucky to tease him. “I thought I could sleep in.”

Steve hoped for him to sit down or grab his knee and shake it, but he just smiled.

“No rest for the wicked,” Bucky said. “C’mon, it’s not all that bad. You just gotta write a mission report.”

“Shouldn’t that be the sergeant’s job?” Steve said. “I thought I read somewhere that that’s—”

“Phillips wants you there at 0800.”

“All right.” Steve sighed. “Where are the maps? I’ll need to look at those.”

“I’ll get them.”

“But I’m showering first.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose. “Thank goodness for small favors.”

When Steve got back from his shower, he found a stack of notes and maps from that day’s mission on his desk. The first paper in the stack had a column of Bucky’s precise digits—a list of coordinates he’d worked up without Steve having to ask. In a circle at the top of the paper was a scrawl of handwriting and a green candy heart, the kind with sayings printed on them for Valentine’s Day. The heart said:

 

 

SWEET

TALK

 

And the note read, _Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere with Phillips. Write the damn report_. Fighting a smile, Steve stuck the candy in his mouth. It was chalky and dry, without any real flavor other than the sweetness, but Steve liked it anyway.

He hadn’t tasted one of those little hearts since the year Bucky bought some for Mary Margaret Boyle for Valentine’s Day. He got her flowers too and went to her house after school, but Mrs. Boyle broke the news that Mary Margaret was already out with another boy. So Bucky came to see Steve instead. He gave the flowers to Mrs. Rogers and shared the candy with Steve. That day—from relief that flooded through him when Bucky knocked on the door to sitting together on his narrow bed with their legs tangled—made Steve realize his feelings for Bucky were considerably more than just friendly.

Steve picked up the stack of papers and went to find Bucky. He was alone in the Commandos’ bunkroom, lying on his bed.

“Where is everyone?” Steve asked.

“Where do you think? Out for a pint.”

Steve sat on the edge of the bed. “Where’d you get the candy?”

“Ma sent it.” Bucky smiled. “There was mail waiting when we got back.”

“Is there more?” Steve said. “Can I have some?”

“You don’t even like them.”

“I do too.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “I gave you one.”

“One? That’s all I get?”

“You’ll get more, trust me. But I want to make them last.”

“C’mon, your ma sends you candy all the time.” Steve leaned over to grab the lapel of Bucky’s jacket and stuffed his hand in the pocket. “You got ‘em in here?”

Bucky snorted out a laugh and tried to wriggle away from Steve, but he grabbed Bucky’s ankle with his other hand and held on tight.

“Lemme go.”

Bucky’s leg kicked out, but not hard. Steve leaned over, trying to pin Bucky’s legs beneath his body, but he had to draw back immediately. Being near Bucky when he was squirming so much was dangerous—Steve always felt one step away from embarrassing himself in public if he so much as thought about getting close. Instead, he poked his fingers into Bucky’s side, just under his ribs.

“Cut it out!” Bucky yelled, but he was laughing too.

“Where are they, Buck? I won’t eat all of them, I promise.”

Steve rooted in Bucky’s other jacket pocket until Bucky gave a huge shove to push Steve off of him. Still laughing, Steve sat up to find Morita watching them with raised eyebrows. Steve straightened, feeling like an idiot. His eyes darted over to Bucky, who had also pulled himself up to sit ramrod straight on the edge of the bunk. He looked every bit as sheepish as Steve felt. He ran his fingers through his hair to tidy it.

“I thought you went out with Dugan,” Bucky said.

“I’m going now,” Morita said. “You coming?”

Bucky glanced at Steve. “Nah, I think I’ll stay in tonight.”

“Suit yourself.” Morita turned, but as he walked out of the room, he looked back over his shoulder and shook his head.

Steve looked at Bucky, wondering if he was being stupidly obvious—subtlety had never been his strong suit. But Bucky was still smiling, so he must not have suspected anything.

“Come on.” Bucky nudged Steve’s knee with his own. “Somebody’s gotta make you do your homework.”

Working there on the bed wasn’t ideal, but Steve was loathe to move once Bucky shifted close to read the notes in his lap. Their shoulders were pressed together, their thighs side by side. Bucky was an affectionate guy, but lately, he kept his distance. Maybe it was just too awkward to throw his arm over Steve’s shoulder now that he was a few inches taller. But Steve missed it—God, he missed it. So he would take what he could get. And what did it matter if Steve was now the one who put his arm around Bucky?

Bucky picked up one of the maps and turned away, while Steve watched out of the corner of his eye. Once Bucky was focused on the map he’d spread out on the bed, Steve relaxed and drank in the sight of him. His hair was still damp and was combed back from his face. He’d shaved, and Steve wanted to touch the smooth skin—run his fingers along his jaw and down his neck.

Bucky turned his head and caught Steve staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve said. “Your hair’s wet.” He would smell soapy and clean, if Steve dared to lean close enough.

Bucky’s head tilted to one side. Then he reached out and flicked a lock of Steve’s hair off his forehead. “So’s yours. That’s what happens when you take a shower.” He pointedly shook the map to flatten out its folds and bent over it again.

Steve wrote the date at the top of his paper, then paused. “It’s almost April.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Valentines in the spring?”

Bucky snorted. “It feel like spring out there to you? Besides, not my fault the mail’s slow.”

Bucky didn’t look up from the map, but he shoved his hand in Steve’s, and when he pulled it away, there was a white heart left there. Steve grinned and read the words. 

 

 

BE

GOOD

 

“Be good and write your report.”

Bucky had another heart in his hand, a pink one, and Steve glimpsed the message as Bucky slipped it into his mouth. 

 

 

MARRY

ME

 

Steve sucked on his own candy and tried not to think about Bucky’s mouth. His lips. His tongue gliding over the heart as it dissolved. Steve shifted the papers, spreading them to cover more of his lap.

When Steve returned to his own tiny room that night, he wondered—for the hundredth time, at least—if maybe he should just bunk with the rest of the Commandos and give up the private quarters. When he’d brought it up, Bucky’d told him he was crazy, but Steve never liked going back to his quiet room, alone.

Steve took a trip to the bathroom, turned out the light, and climbed into bed. There was something on his pillow: another candy. He turned the light back on to see the faint red letters printed on the pale orange heart.

 

 

BE

GOOD

 

Even though he’d just brushed his teeth, he ate the candy, sucking on it until it was sharp-edged and thin, then crunching it between his teeth.

 

 

*****

“How’d it go?” Bucky said.

“Not bad,” Steve said. “I think Phillips is in a good mood today.”

“Good. Maybe he won’t argue with your stupid plan.” Bucky pulled the map closer and studied it. He was leaning so low to the map he was almost lying down. “I still think coming from the north makes more sense.”

Steve shoved up close, trying not to let himself get distracted by the warmth of Bucky’s shoulder against his chest. “You mean here?” Steve pointed at the map.

“Yeah. There’s gotta be trees all along that ridge. It’ll give us a little bit of cover at least.”

“Okay,” Steve said. “Let’s come from the north then.”

Bucky’s head turned, his face in a suspicious squint. “What? No argument?”

Steve shook his head.

“But—” Bucky pushed himself upright. “That’s not _natural_. What’s going on?”

Steve shrugged. “Nothing. You’re right. We come from the north over that ridge, then make our way west down the valley. If we do it at sunrise—”

“Yeah, okay, I see where you’re going.” Bucky was already scribbling furiously, sketching out the plan. “I’ll stay on top of the ridge. Cover you until—”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Just until we’re in.”

Bucky wrote for several more moments, then handed the paper to Steve. The words were a mess on the page, but Bucky’s handwriting was as familiar to Steve as his own. As he skimmed, Bucky grabbed Steve’s free hand and dropped a candy heart into it. It was yellow and bore the words

 

 

BE

GOOD

 

“You trying to tell me something?” Steve asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep giving me hearts that say ‘be good.’ Or did you just get a lot of that saying in the box?”

“No, that’s one’s a reward. For being good and not arguing.” Bucky looked thoughtful for a moment, then moved his head in a strange sideways nod. “And anyway, that’s not exactly what I mean. It should say ‘be kind.’”

“Be kind?” Steve said, wondering if he’d been unkind. During their mission the day before, he’d shot a soldier when they’d planned to take prisoners. But the guy had refused to yield, not dropping his rifle no matter how many times Steve had shouted at him. He’d raised his rifle and aimed right at Bucky—Steve hadn’t really had any choice. The guy had lived, anyway. Though maybe Steve wasn’t as gentle as he could have been when lifting him into the transport taking him to the medics.

“To _me_ ,” Bucky said, nudging Steve with his knee. “I mean be kind to me.”

Steve was opening his mouth to ask for an explanation of this cryptic statement when Bucky shoved a few more candies into his hand.

“Bucky?”

He wouldn’t meet Steve’s eye. When he spoke, his voice was so strained he sounded almost angry. “Would you just read them?”

Steve looked at the three hearts in his hand. Two white and one pink. Only one was face up—one of the white ones. 

 

 

LOVE

YOU

 

He looked at Bucky, but he just shook his head, so Steve flipped the other white heart over.

 

 

BE

MINE

 

It couldn’t mean what he hoped it meant. It _couldn’t_. But Bucky still wouldn’t look at him—Steve had never seen him so anxious.

When Steve tried to turn over the last one, his hand wobbled, and he dropped all three onto the bed. Bucky grabbed the pink heart off the blanket and held it out to Steve, the candy sitting in the middle of his palm.

 

 

TRUE

LOVE

 

“ _Bucky_.” Steve put his hand in Bucky’s, ignoring the heart when it fell out of their grasp. “Bucky, I—”

“Shut up.” Bucky yanked his hand away. “Wait a minute.”

Steve laughed in disbelief and watched Bucky searching his pockets.

“Dammit, where’d I put it?” Bucky growled. His hand patted at his chest, then fumbled to unbutton the breast pocket of his shirt. “Here,” he said, digging a green candy out of the pocket and handing it to Steve. He averted his gaze again, like he was afraid to watch Steve read the message.

  

 

KISS

ME

 

Steve’s heart pounded. He lifted his head and grabbed Bucky by both shoulders, pulling him close. Bucky was smiling, but he put a hand on Steve’s chest. “What are you doing?” Bucky said. “Somebody could walk in any minute.”

“ _Bucky_.”

“You were really going to do it? Just because I asked you to? With a stupid piece of candy?”

“Yeah.”

“So today you decide to do what I say?”

“ _Yeah_.”

Steve tilted his head down again, but Bucky leaned away. Steve groaned in frustration. “Why now? If you won’t even let me kiss you, why’d you pick now to tell me?”

“Sorry. It’s not a good time, I know.” But Bucky’s hand was still on Steve’s chest, his fingers moving fitfully, and he was gazing at Steve intently—couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him. That made up for all the lousy timing in the world. “I wanted to tell you. For forever. But—”

Bucky hand slid up Steve’s shirtfront and around to the back of his neck. It made it even harder to resist kissing him. He must have read Steve’s mind, because he pulled his hand away and shifted down the bed, putting a little bit of space between them.

“I told myself if I ever got off that table alive, I would tell you,” Bucky whispered. “I swore I wouldn’t wait anymore. But then you showed up looking all—looking like this, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want you to think that it was just because you’re—” He waved his hand, taking in all of Steve’s new body. “And you could have anybody you want, so I didn’t think—”

“There’s nobody else.” Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and held on, even when Bucky tried to tug it away, though he was careful to keep his voice quiet. “Nobody but you.”

Bucky’s expression softened. “Lately you’ve been more—I don’t know. Touching me more, and I started to hope that maybe. . . .”

“No maybe about it,” Steve said. So he _had_ been obvious, but he hated to think about how much longer they might have had to wait if he hadn’t.

Bucky’s smile broadened, and Steve couldn’t resist then. He grabbed Bucky and kissed him. Just a quick hard press of his mouth against Bucky’s was all he dared before pulling away, but it was exhilarating. Bucky moved a few inches further away, then drew in a long shuddering breath.

Steve jumped to his feet when he heard footsteps in the hall, but right away, he sat back down. His legs felt unsteady.

Monty appeared in the doorway. “Five minutes, gentlemen.”

“Yeah, we’re coming,” Bucky said.

Monty grabbed a notebook from a shelf by the door. Steve hoped that meant he had some ideas for the mission, because he himself was going to have a hard time concentrating.

After Monty disappeared down the hall, Bucky stood up and tugged at his uniform to straighten it. “We gotta go.”

“Now?”

Bucky gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, now.”

Steve stood and followed Bucky toward the door. But just before Bucky went out into the hall, Steve grabbed him, slammed the door shut, and shoved him up against it. He kissed him again—for real this time. Slow. Pressed against Bucky down the whole length of his body.

“I’m serious,” Steve said, though he laughed as he panted against Bucky’s lips when they parted. “Why now? Right before this meeting?”

“Sorry.” Bucky’s hands were fisted in Steve’s lapels. “It was—”

“Anybody could’ve walked in—you’re right.” Steve pressed his forehead against Bucky’s, willing himself to calm down. Instead, he bent his head and pressed a kiss behind Bucky’s ear. “And we’re late. You could’ve told me tonight.”

“Sorry.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s head and pulled him into another kiss, his tongue sliding between Steve’s lips and making him whimper. “I couldn’t wait anymore.”

“How am I gonna talk about the mission? Why _now_?”

Steve was teasing—Bucky must have known that, but he looked unhappy.

“I kind of wanted an excuse to skedaddle if the answer was no. If we had to leave for the meeting—”

“You thought I might say no?” Steve put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and looked him right in the eye. “You didn’t really think that.”

Bucky averted his eyes and shrugged.

 _One last kiss_ , Steve promised himself. _Just one, then we’ll go_. It was gentle this time. Sweet, with his hand on the back of Bucky’s neck and Bucky still gripping his lapels. When they dragged themselves apart, Steve made himself take a step back. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. But after the meeting, we’re going to my room.”

“I thought you didn’t want your own room.” Bucky laughed, and rubbed his hand down over Steve’s jacket in a futile attempt to smooth the wrinkles. “I thought you didn’t need—”

“You’re teasing me _now_?” Steve said. Bucky gave him an apologetic look and pressed his palm against his cheek. Steve grabbed his hand and kissed the knuckles. “Just tell me you’ll be there.”

But Bucky pulled his hand away.

“Bucky, please. You’ll meet me, right?”

Steve watched as Bucky stuck his hand in his pants pocket and pulled out a handful of candy hearts. He shuffled through them until he found the one he wanted and handed it to Steve.

 

 

YES,

DEAR

 

Steve walked into the meeting with the sugary heart melting on his tongue.

 

 

THE END


End file.
